The Sacrificial lamb
So here it goes; suddenly every interesting thought haplessly treading in my mind vanishes, as this is somehow different from finding a cozy spot at Starbucks with my tall mocha, happily relinquishing an afternoon to scrolling out thoughts in my cherished leather bound journal.My ritual morning walk to work did not spur, as usual, any profoundly inspiring thoughts or even halfhearted mediocre ideas. Rather, I hummed the theme song to Blowin' in the Wind, and laughed out loud to the phrase "feed the meter", which inspires the imagery of several coin-hungry parking meters in a fabricated birds' nest; the momma meter mouthfeeding manually her "little ones". Okay, so this path of logic is quite skewed, but then I scoured my memory for other phrases that brought about a funny picture. I once wrote a seemingly epic poem for God knows what reason, on dandelions (I should add that this was for a creative writing course in which we sat outside on the quad and had our discussions via 60's freespirit style). Thanks to my quirky, somewhat scatterbrained French teacher, I have never been able to forget that dandelion, or "dents de lion", translates to the "teeth of a lion". Here this powerful animal sits in the sahara, awaiting its next prey and meal, when an unfortunate gust of wind comes by and maliciously blows away all of its teeth. What a sad scenario. But I laugh whenever I think about it.
On with the usual tangents from normalcy, I was thinking that I might go see Garden State again, which I never ever do (go see movies twice that is). Wait, scratch that. There might have been an occassion in my 16th year or so that caused me to see a Freddie Prinze Jr. movie more than once. Blame it on the powerfully mind-controlling drugs called hormones and high school... But anyways, since then, it's been a scarce occurence for me to like a movie enough to even consider going to see it in the theater again. But I can't shake the pool scene in which Zach Braff's character describes to Natalie Portman the idea of home. Paraphrasing very badly, he thinks of it as an illusion; the physical setting is where you "store your shit", but it becomes nothing more than that because the entire entity of home encompasses not only shelter, but safety. Once you leave, it's up to you and you alone to find what is "safe". Family then becomes the people who all yearn for the same place and time; a moment when the universe remained still enough for us all to realize that we had this illusive notion. I choked back a tear after that scene because it was the exact description of what I've been experienced in the last five years. My previous existence was in this bubble, or what I saw as the "fishbowl". Two completely separate environments, separated by a thin layer of glass- inside is this sheltered, fabricated, ordered existence; outside is chaos, confusion. Each one envies the other's life. Moving away was synonymous with a magnanimous force which caused the impermeable membrane of glass to shatter. In "breaking free", I've not yet evolved the capacity to breathe in this new world, but I haven't given up hope yet either. I'm not sure if it's comforting to know that other people are living in a similar manner and can relate enough to draft an entire script upon this idea, or if it's infuriating to realize that I'm unoriginal. Regardless, it's something that only time will be able to play out.
It's Friday once again, and I wonder where oh where have Monday through Thursday gone. I'm sitting in a unusually quiet office, as my co-workers have not arrived yet, but when they do, the day will course through in a semi-predictable manner. I miss the other XX chromosome person who used to be here. Now I'm bombarded constantly with stereotypical "male" conversation; which not surprisingly revolves around sex and sports. Ah, well, I suppose I'll chalk it up to the fact that we're all under twenty-five, and this job has its ups and downs like any other. "Infectious disease" division, ha. I'm the only one with a Biology degree. But I admit, I'm enjoying what I do more and more, essentially because I like the people I work with, and I'm building up a large callus of resistence towards disparaging nurses who are really grouchy. And, as it is Friday, I look forward to being here all day, instead divvying up my time between here, the other office, the med school library, or (gasp) school. Yeh for weekends! And so the day officially begins, as I tear myself away from what I really want to do all day, which is write, to settle on more mundane tasks such as patient fall risk assessment. Yes, it is as dull as it sounds. :) Til the urge to write again strikes, adieu!
posted by Sheila @ 8/27/2004 07:42:00 AM
1 Comments:
Sheila, Im glad I have something new to read while Im trying to waste time. And, you're such a great writer!!!! Im jealous.
~Cary.
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